


To Wed the Dragon

by Politzania



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Curses, Forced Marriage, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-09-30 15:28:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20449361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Politzania/pseuds/Politzania
Summary: Every spring equinox, the dragon that lives in the mountains north of the kingdom demands its tribute:  a quarter-tithe of goods and a consort.   Antony Stark has been chosen, and neither he nor the mysterious manservant of the dragon could foresee what the summer will bring.Tony Stark Bingo 2019: K5 - Forced Marriage





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Square: TSB 2019 K5 - Forced Marriage  
Title: To Wed the Dragon  
Rating: Teen (for now)  
Warnings: none  
Pairing: Tony x Stephen/ IronStrange  
Summary: Every spring equinox, the dragon that lives in the mountains north of the kingdom demands its tribute: a quarter-tithe of goods and a consort. Antony Stark has been chosen, and neither he nor the mysterious manservant of the dragon could foresee what the summer will bring.

Antony Stark stood slowly. It was the first time he had participated in the selection ceremony, kneeling down in the village square with the other eligible youths, and he had been chosen. Without a word, the dragon’s manservant -- an elderly man who barely spoke -- tapped him on the shoulder with his staff, marking Antony as the summer consort of the dragon. His mother had cried; his father simply looked pensive and perhaps relieved. 

Antony didn’t quite know what to think or feel. A quarter century ago, a fearsome dragon came from over the sea and took up residence in the northern crags of the kingdom. King Nicolas sent his best knights; they were vanquished, and the bargain was struck. In return for leaving the kingdom be, the dragon demanded yearly tributes, sending this representative to collect a wagonload of supplies and a new consort at every spring equinox. 

No one knew exactly what the dragon demanded of its consort; those who returned in the autumn had only the vaguest memories of what had transpired (which most considered a blessing) and perhaps a scar or two. However, there were consorts who suffered more grievous injuries, and several had never returned. The old man offered his condolences on those occasions, but no explanation. 

The brief wedding, held immediately after the selection, was a hollow ritual. Antony supposed they called it a marriage because slavery was outlawed in the kingdom; but truly how was a dowry different than buying someone’s freedom? The manservant -- dressed as always in a long hooded cloak -- spoke the words of the ceremony in a rough, quavery voice. As he held the man’s scarred, gnarled hand, Antony’s declaration came out in barely a whisper, the words meaning nothing to him. 

The old man -- he had never given his name -- handed over the dowry to Antony’s parents, then accepted Antony’s single trunk. As with the other candidates, Antony had packed clothing and some of his belongings as the newly selected consort would be whisked away up the mountain directly after the sham wedding. It had been difficult to winnow down his bookshelf to a few favorite volumes; as the clothing his mother had insisted he bring took up most of the trunk.

At least James would be seeing him off. The kingdom’s quarter-tithe -- another condition of the bargain -- provided enough supplies for a two-person household for the next six months. The task of driving the wagon up and then back down the mountain was normally taken on by members of the family, but Antony asked if his oldest and best friend would accompany him instead. 

Strangely enough, a small part of Antony that had always yearned for adventure, a chance to do and see things beyond their small kingdom was looking ahead in anticipation. As they began the trek up the mountain, he strained for a glimpse of the elusive dragon. While it dwelled in the caves at the top of the mountain, it hunted in the vast forest on the kingdom’s outskirts, occasionally preying on the livestock of the villagers. On occasion, it could be seen winging over the countryside, a gout of flame erupting from its mouth. 

“What does that dragon need any of us for?” James groused under his breath. “It’s got him, after all.” He tossed his head back, indicating the manservant. Perched on top of the goods in the wagon, the man in question seemed not to have heard the complaint. 

“He’s old,” Antony pointed out. “He can’t possibly climb on the dragon’s back to polish its scales or clamber into its mouth to pick its teeth clean.” 

James snorted. “How can you make light of this situation?” 

“I don’t have much choice, do I?” Antony picked at the hem of his tunic. He supposed the enormity of his situation hadn’t quite sunk in. In a few short hours, he would be alone on a desolate mountain with only an ancient, reticent man and a formidable dragon for company. 

A dragon with a temper, it seemed. The latest consort but one, Aldrich, had returned with burns all up and down his arm. He couldn’t remember how he had gotten them, as the dragon’s insidious magic had stolen all memory of his mistreatment, but it was obvious enough in the villagers’ eyes. Antony’s mother had packed a jar of salve in his trunk as a precaution, hoping he would be allowed to use it. 

Some villagers believed that the marriage was more than symbolic, recalling the consort from a decade before who returned from the mountain with child. The babe was born nearly two months early and was horribly disfigured. Covered in scales, it only lived a few days, and the villagers had nearly rioted when the manservant returned for the yearly tribute. Only King Nicolas declaring his daughter Carol as the next consort was enough to quell the uproar. She returned a half-year later apparently untouched, but never spoke of her time on the mountain. 

Antony, James and the manservant completed the ascent in near-silence. James attempted to engage Antony in conversation -- it was usually the reverse -- but with poor results. Antony apologized as they started to unload the wagon, but James brushed him off. 

“No, it’s all right, Ant,” James smiled as his friend pulled a face at the childhood nickname. “You have a lot on your mind right now.” 

“Quickly, now,” the old man interrupted. “You must be off the mountain by sundown.” They hastily stacked the supplies under a rocky overhang, as there were only a few hours of daylight left. The manservant poked through the bags and barrels, muttering to himself. Antony assumed one of his first tasks would be to put everything where it belonged; doomed to perform drudge work for the next six months instead of continuing his studies and working on his creations. 

The moment they were done, the old man dismissed James brusquely. He glared fiercely in reply and went over to Antony to bid him farewell. 

“You be careful, do as you’re told and come home safe, okay?” Antony’s heart swelled at the caring words from his friend.

“I’ll do my best.” 

James briefly embraced Antony before slipping a dagger into his pouch and holding a finger to his lips; the consorts were supposed to arrive unarmed. Which, Antony reflected, he technically had. 

He watched as James flicked the reins and the wagon jolted into motion. By all rights, the horses should have been given a good rest; but there was no time. Besides, they were skittish at the scent of the dragon in the air — a sulfurous, acrid smell. James would have his hands full on the descent, riding the brake almost constantly, even with an empty wagon. Antony was torn between his desire to be on that wagon with him and anticipation at actually seeing the dragon up close. 

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Antony turned to face the manservant. “I suppose if we’re to spend the next six months together, I should know your name.” Antony was too tired and hungry to mind his manners. 

“Of course. My apologies. I am Stephen.” The old man held out a hand and Antony shook it. He had a stronger grip than Antony expected, but the palsied trembling made it clear that his hands were permanently damaged. “Come,” Stephen said, “let us eat.” 

Antony followed Stephen into the cave, where he discovered a snug residence. Stephen pointed out the sleeping quarters, a curtain drawn across its doorway. A hearth was cunningly built into one wall, the smoke disappearing up a crack in the wall of the cave. A pot of stew bubbled over the coals of a fire, but the shelves above and around the hearth were nearly bare. Another doorway led to a small room, lit by a glowing globe, where a spring provided fresh water and sanitary arrangements, as well as a cool place to store perishables. 

After giving him a few minutes to look around, Stephen waved Antony over to the table before stepping to the hearth. He laboriously spooned out two generous servings of stew, bringing them over to the table, along with a fresh loaf of bread. Despite the shaking of his hands, Stephen gobbled down his meal, tearing into the bread as if he were starving; Antony was quite taken aback, as his companion’s frail frame spoke more of asceticism than gluttony. Looking up from his empty bowl, Stephen apologized. “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten my manners after another winter spent here alone.” 

His abashed expression sparked a pang of sympathy in Antony’s chest; he’d never considered that the old man might be lonely. “No offence taken,” he replied, trying to put Stephen at ease. “I’ve never been much for manners, to my mother’s despair.” 

Stephen smiled, the expression somehow out of place on his wrinkled, craggy visage. He rose to collect the dishes, saying “We haven’t much time, but I will answer what questions I can.” 

“Much time before what?” 

“Before the dragon returns.” There was an ominous tone to his words that piqued Antony’s interest. 

“Why are you here?” Antony blurted out. It was a question that had bothered him for years, and even if it were ill-advised to continue, he couldn’t help himself. “Why do you serve such a master, one who collects slaves? What hold does this creature have on you?” 

Stephen nodded and made a soft ‘hmph’ , as if Antony had passed a test. “They told me you were inquisitive and clever. That you just might be the key.” Stephen’s eyes brightened, and he sat up in his chair. “The dragon has a very tight hold on me, you see ... for we are one and the same.” 

Antony’s eyes widened in shock. He had heard stories of shape-shifters, but they seemed even more incredible than the existence of the dragon itself. “Are you man feigning to be dragon, or a dragon who has taken the form of a man?” 

“The former, but not by choice. I have been cursed; for each hour I spend as a man, I must spend a day as a dragon.” Stephen stood and stepped to the door to look out at the lowering sun. “I will tell you more at another time, but for now, we must prepare. The curse states that the only one truly safe from the dragon is his betrothed; but he must know you first.” 

Antony remembered the consort with the doomed dragon-child and shuddered at the thought. “How do you mean that?” 

“Not in the biblical sense,” Stephen added gently, as if reading his mind, “I request only a kiss.” Antony was unable to hide a momentary sense of unease; he was unused to bestowing his affection on someone he barely knew, much less someone thrice his age. 

“Perhaps this will make a difference.” Stephen stood and passed his hand across his face. He was suddenly a striking young man who gazed down at Antony with bright hazel eyes as his sharp cheekbones darkened slightly with shame. “This is my true form - I apologize for the deception.” 

“Will I get an explanation for that as well?” The revelation that Stephen was both young and handsome gave Antony a moment of shameful relief at how much easier it was to consider the intimate request of a kiss. 

“Yes, I promise. Quickly, now.” Stephen stepped forward and bent down to press his lips against Antony’s. 

It wasn’t the first time Antony had been so close with another man; while still technically a virgin, he had some experience in the art of love. Stephen’s kiss was polite and perfunctory, but despite the assumption that this was a custom Stephen performed with every consort and that perhaps he didn’t even care for men — Antony suddenly wanted to reciprocate, to deepen the kiss into something more. 

“There,” Stephen murmured, “Now you are protected.” He briefly squeezed Antony’s shoulder before straightening up and stepping back. His hands were still scarred and the palsy remained; it seemed that was not part of the disguise. Antony added another question to his growing horde. 

“Go into the bedroom and put on the clothing you’ll find there,” Stephen instructed in a stronger tone. “Stay inside until you hear the dragon has calmed. Then walk out to him slowly. When he lowers his head, stand still. If you run, or scream, he may react ... poorly.” Antony couldn’t help but wonder if Aldrich had not heeded the warning. “The dragon will need to scent you, touch you with his muzzle and tongue, to confirm you are indeed his betrothed.” 

“I understand,” Antony responded. But of course he couldn’t let well enough alone - he never could. “Once you have shifted, does the dragon take over completely? Does he comprehend human speech? How long will you remain in dragon form?” 

“So many questions, my dear Antony.” Stephen’s lips quirked into a wry smile, but his eyes remained melancholy. “All in good time. I am still there within the beast, although I am not necessarily in control. He cannot speak, but he will understand what you say to him. I spent the day as a man, so it will nearly be a fortnight before I can regain my true form. Now I must go. Remember my instructions.” Stephen kissed him again, this time on the cheek, then strode swiftly out of the cave, leaving Antony alone and more than a little overwhelmed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antony spends his first day as the dragon’s consort - and it’s not at all what he expected.

Mere minutes later, Antony jumped to his feet purely by impulse as an agonized, wordless yell rent the air. He was nearly to the cave entrance before he remembered what he’d been told to do. Entering the sleeping quarters, Antony noted an overflowing bookshelf and two comfortable-looking beds; one of which had a simple white shift laying across it. 

He reached out towards the dozens of books, as a second shout spiraled up into a scream, then back down into a deep, agonized bellow. Antony cringed in sympathy as he quickly changed clothes; he hadn’t realized the transformation would be so painful, and his heart went out to his new companion. 

Antony waited for the distressed roars to subside before venturing outside. In the twilight, he could clearly make out the shape of the dragon. It was gigantic, nearly twice his height at the shoulder, with its neck and head towering at least that tall again. Its body was proportional in length, with a tapering tail that twitched uneasily as the dragon’s sides heaved with the effort of the change, wings held close to its body as if to protect itself. Antony’s innate sense of curiosity burned to see those wings stretched out to their full span. 

He exited the mouth of the cave and walked slowly toward the dragon, his eyes firmly fixed straight ahead. The dragon watched him approach, and Antony stopped once the dragon lowered its massive head. Despite that head being nearly as large as Antony’s torso, the dragon’s touch was surprisingly cautious and gentle. Its tongue flicked over his face and hair before rubbing its muzzle up and down his chest. The dragon’s breath smelled of brimstone and sulfur, but Antony was well used to those odors from his work at the forge; the familiarity somehow feeling like home. 

The dragon’s eyes were surprisingly human despite their size, the streaks of green and brown and gold clearly matching those that Antony had gazed deeply into not even an hour before. “Stephen — it really is you, isn’t it?” He asked in a low, almost reverent tone.

Drawing his head back, the dragon nodded. But Anthony was never satisfied with a simple solution. “If you understand what I’m saying,” he instructed, “tap your front right foot twice.” 

The dragon — no, Stephen — did as requested, and a thrill of satisfaction ran through Anthony. “Let’s call that ‘yes’. How about three taps of your left foot for ‘no’?” 

Stephen tapped his right foot twice again, then chuffed softly before tapping out the signal for ‘no’. 

“Oh, so you have a sense of humor?” Antony grinned, and got a ‘yes’ in reply. “I see I’ll need to stay on my toes.” He then sobered. “Is your transformation always so painful?” 

Stephen sighed heavily, his breath ruffling Tony’s hair as he tapped out another ‘yes’. 

“I’m so sorry.” Antony reached out a hand to stroke his companion’s muzzle. “Are you hungry? Do you need to go hunting?” Stephen tapped out a ‘no’ before sinking down into a reclining position. “Ah, of course, you’re exhausted.” Antony got a slow ‘yes’ in reply. “I bid you a good night, then.” Stephen blinked slowly in agreement. 

As Antony returned to the cave, he was already making plans for when Stephen returned to his human shape, understanding why he had taken a double portion of the stew — it was clearly in an effort to sustain himself during the transformation. 

The questions that whirled through Antony’s mind as he lay quietly in a strange room weren’t quite enough to keep him from sleep after such a long and taxing day. But he awoke with the sun, donning his own clothing once again before leaving the cave in search of his companion. 

Stephen appeared to still be asleep, his wings now laxly spread across the small plateau. Antony took a moment to admire their massive span, the deep burgundy blending into the dark grey of his body. A ruff that Antony hadn’t noticed the night before was that same splendid color, complementing the glossy black of the dragon’s horns. His claws, nearly as long as Antony’s forearm, shone in the sunlight as well. 

Antony sat close enough for the dragon to scent him, but far enough away to not seem a threat. He hadn’t been waiting long when Stephen twitched, snorted and then opened his eyes. “Good morning.” 

Stephen wrinkled his nose in disgust as a reply. “Well, perhaps it would be better with something to drink? I made sure there was coffee in our supplies, but at your current size, it would be all gone within the first week or two.” That earned Antony another chuff of amusement. “Water, then?” 

Stephen tapped a quick ‘yes’ and Antony looked around to determine the most efficient way to supply him with the refreshment he needed. It took more work than he anticipated to drag the bathing tub from the spring room out to Stephen, and then there were multiple trips with the pail to then fill it. But the slow blink, which Anthony was coming to recognize as thanks made it all worthwhile. 

Antony excused himself to make a quick breakfast of jam and bread, returning to sit beside Stephen as he ate. “May I ask you some more questions?” Receiving another ‘yes’, he started with what he thought was something simple. “How old are you?”

Stephen paused, then tapped five times with his right foot, then twice with his right; Anthony admired the clever way he’d responded, even as he was taken aback by the number. “Are you truly old enough to be my father, then?” Stephen tapped thrice with his left then twice with his right, combining a no with a yes — a partial truth. “Does the curse keep you from aging?” This time Stephen gave him two yeses, then a no. More true than false, but not quite correct. 

“Do you only age when you are human?” A slow yes was the reply. Perhaps Stephen himself didn’t quite know. “How old were you when you were cursed?” Stephen tapped out twenty-one the same way as before, two and one. So the true face he had shown was accurate; Stephen was in essence scarcely older than Antony himself. 

That also meant that Stephen had spent the first several years of his curse elsewhere, and as Anthony attempted to formulate a series of questions to determine where and what he might have been doing, a low rumble emanated from the dragon’s midsection, and his wings twitched restlessly. Remembering Stephen’s warning about not always being in control, Antony took a few steps backward. 

“Ah - it seems I am keeping you from your breakfast!” Antony gestured towards the haphazard pile of supplies he and James had unpacked the day before. “And I have my work cut out for me as well. I wish you good hunting, my friend.” 

The dragon snorted as he gathered himself up on his haunches. With a powerful leap into the air, he took flight; the wind from that first powerful wingbeat nearly knocking Antony down. It was a magnificent sight to see, and Antony watched in wonder as the dragon banked around the side of the mountain to fly out over the vast forest beyond. A small part of him wondered if it might be worth the curse to have the opportunity to soar into the skies. 

It took the better part of the day to organize and inventory the village’s tithing: Antony was thankful he’d spent so much time with Ana — she’d taken on most of the household duties from his mother, leaving Lady Stark free to socialize and work on her handcrafts. Antony had learned how to properly store dry goods from Ana - which included keeping the bags of flour well separated from the braided bunches of onions. Anthony regretted that he hadn’t been able to say goodbye to her or to Jarvis, his father’s manservant - they had been too busy with their daily tasks to be able to attend the selection ceremony. 

In the process of finding places for the various barrels, bags and baskets, Antony became familiar with the nooks and crannies of his new home. The spring room had ample space for cheese and butter, while the hearth area had several handy hooks in the ceiling to hang items from. Sacrificing the fly leaf of one of his precious books to create an inventory, Antony took careful note of what they had and where it had been stored, taking pride in his accomplishment.

Antony also unpacked his own belongings, discovering a drawer left empty in the bureau that sat across from the beds in the sleeping quarters. He stole a few moments from his task to peruse the bookshelf; while there were a few titles in languages he did not recognize, the majority were written in his native tongue. He would have to ask Stephen if it was all right to read some of his books. Perhaps he might enjoy having Antony read aloud to him while he was in his dragon form; after all, he’d be quite unable to turn pages with those great claws of his. 

They also needed to figure out a more effective way to communicate. He could scratch out the alphabet in the dirt of the plateau -- but no, a careless step would wipe them away all too easily. Perhaps if there were a large and flat enough space on one of the rocks? Antony stepped outside to look, only to be taken aback at how late it was in the day. His stomach rumbled as he realized he’d not taken a midday meal. Antony broke off a chunk of cheese to go with the remainder of the loaf of bread he and Stephen had shared last night. He ladled out another bowl of stew, then sliced a few potatoes and an onion into the pot to replenish what he had taken, as there was still plenty of meat in the pot. 

Antony took his simple meal outside, scanning the horizon for a sign of his companion as he ate. While he waited, he filled the tub with fresh water, assuming that flying was thirsty work. It was close to sunset when a dot in the sky came closer and took on a recognizable silhouette. Stephen landed on the plateau almost as gracefully as he had ascended; Antony wondered how long it had taken him to learn the skill of flight after his transformation. 

The dragon carefully deposited something it was holding in its jaws onto a flat rock, then nudged Antony towards his prize. It was a haunch of a deer, partially skinned, and ... well, ‘roasted’ would be a stretch, with one side was nearly charred, while the other was still mostly raw. “Is this for me?” Antony asked. The quick ‘yes’, combined with another nudge made the dragon’s intentions clear. 

“Thank you, my friend.” Antony pulled a chunk of more or less cooked meat off the joint and popped it into his mouth. It was tastier than he had expected, with a smoky taste he couldn’t quite identify. “May I take this to the spring room, where it will keep?” Another ‘yes’ and a quick nod, as if the dragon were quite pleased with himself. 

Antony observed that the dragon’s emerging personality was somewhat at odds with what little he knew of Stephen’s temperament, but he had plenty of time to figure out this discrepancy. By the time Antony came back outside, the dragon had already curled up and seemed to be drifting off to sleep. On impulse, he stepped over to stroke his companion’s great head. It was warm to the touch, and the scales were surprisingly smooth to the touch. 

The dragon snuffled slightly, and opened one eye. “Good night, Stephen.” The corner of the dragon’s mouth curled up as if in a smile, and he blinked slowly before closing his eyes once again.


End file.
